The Mad Princess Arrives

The carriage jolted violently, a dull vibration rattling up through my seat, but I never took my eyes off the window. It was my first glimpse of the outside world in a week.

I hadn't known, before, just how refreshing open air could be.

Seven days ago, I had been dragged off by armed thugs and locked away in some nameless hideout. They'd even confiscated my bag of herbs, poisonous plants, and research journals. Confined ever since to a windowless room, staring out at the passing scenery was what finally made it sink in — I was still alive.

And yet…

"Now then, Your Highness. Open your mouth."

I laid a careful hand over my upper abdomen. That's what they called it — Helbine.

That was the name of the poisonous plant those men had force-fed me. I'd studied herbs and toxins quite diligently since arriving in this world, or so I'd thought, but I'd never imagined there existed a plant that parasitized the human body, using it as a host.

At first, I'd laughed at them inwardly. If it really was a poison, my own body would neutralize it the moment it entered my system.

But Helbine was something else entirely. Over the past week, far from being detoxified, it had settled into my belly as snugly as if it had finally found the home of its dreams.

Once a day. If I failed to drink the calming draught, the thing in my stomach would begin devouring my organs — and the excruciating pain that came with it was thrown in free of charge. I'd nearly blacked out testing whether they were telling the truth.

"Think of it as the bare minimum safeguard against your betraying us. Say one word about our guild, and… well. The thing inside your belly will chew through and swallow every last one of your organs. Keep that in mind, and only that."

Skip the draught, and die. Slip up even once with my mouth, and die.

In most martial arts novels, anyone forced to swallow something like this ends up enslaved for life before dying a miserable death, though….

As things stood, unless I could craft an antidote, escaping the Archducal castle would be impossible.

First things first — once we reach the castle, I'm finding out everything I can about Helbine.

What kind of plant it was, how it worked, how to brew an antidote, and…

How to get rid of it entirely.

Hoo… honestly, I was exhausted. So, so exhausted.

I let out a sigh and turned my gaze back to the window. That was when my eyes met my own reflection in the glass.

But…

Was I always this pretty?

I ran a fingertip along the face mirrored in the carriage window. Translucent, snow-white skin. Deep, vivid blue eyes. Platinum-blonde hair cascading down my back.

This was the result of the women from the same guild as my captors scrubbing me down and rubbing scented oils into my skin dozens of times over the past week. Of course, the old scars scattered across my body and the calluses on my fingertips and palms had resisted every treatment they tried.

Still, at this point it's basically a full metamorphosis.

Not a trace remained of the commoner Evelyn who'd spent her whole life rolling in the dirt digging up herbs — so complete a transformation that even if I passed someone from Bilote Village on the road, they wouldn't recognize me.

Maybe it's actually for the best.

If I buried myself deep inside the Archducal castle looking like this, I'd never have to cross paths with anyone from Bilote again.

The real problem lay elsewhere.

"But I don't know a single thing about royal etiquette. Won't that be a problem? If anyone suspects I'm a fake… honestly, wouldn't it be safer to use a properly trained double, like you originally planned—"

At my anxious fretting, the leader of the thugs snorted with laughter.

"You don't need to worry about any of that. The Princess of Delmar is a madwoman — she lost her mind from the shock of the war."

"…So no matter what I do, people will just shrug it off?"

"Exactly. Babble nonsense, crawl around on the floor, do whatever you like. All you have to do is seduce the Archduke and bear his child."

"Uh, I do have standards, you know, I can't just—"

"Then die here and now."

"I swear I will squeeze out every ounce of strength I've built up in my life and complete the mission!"

"…."

I'd only agreed because I wanted to live, but still — seduce the Archduke?

For someone who'd never once been in a relationship, in either life, it was practically an impossible feat.

And that Archduke, of all people….

Grand Duke Varkan Escarr was one of the sub-male leads of this very novel.

How on earth am I supposed to seduce a man whose eyes are going to turn into hearts the moment the original female lead shows up?

So was I simply fated to die, one way or another? I'd even drawn up plans to sail away to the eastern continent just to keep my distance from the original story — so why did it feel like I'd drifted dangerously close to it anyway?

My mood deflated for no good reason. It felt as though my modest little dream — boarding a ship to the eastern continent, running a humble apothecary, growing old in peace — was waving goodbye and drifting out of reach.

Then — wait a second! — I shook my head hard.

No. Wrong!

There was no need to panic or cower in advance. I'd survived being poisoned. I'd survived in front of thugs who treated human lives like playthings.

Where else would you find a life force as stubbornly tenacious as mine?

So I would survive this too, whatever it took. I'd survive, see the eastern continent — that supposed paradise of poisonous plants — with my own eyes, and open a proper little apothecary there!

I gazed out at the imposing mansion coming into view. Walls of dark slate stone built solid and unyielding, a towering dark-red roof, sharp spires. It was an old-fashioned stronghold, constructed less for grandeur than for utter practicality and defense. It matched the description of the Archducal castle I'd heard from the thugs exactly.

So that's Escarr Castle….

Fine. Die this way, die that way — it all amounted to the same thing.

Since it's come to this, I have no intention of dying as easily as the original story's princess did.

I would survive, somehow. And once I did, I'd slip away from this castle light as the wind!

Clenching my fist, I watched the castle draw ever closer. And a short while later—

"We've arrived, Your Highness."

The voice of a thug disguised as an escort knight drifted in from outside the halted carriage. I drew a deep breath, let it out, and straightened my posture. Then the carriage door swung open, and the cold northern air rushed in all at once.

Taking the thug's hand, I stepped down slowly from the carriage. He leaned close and murmured in a low voice.

"Don't forget. Your mission."

Unbelievable. Has whispering that actually ever worked on anyone?

I offered no reply and walked toward the castle's assembled servants.

Before the castle stood an army of staff, matching the scale of the mansion itself, lined up to receive me. But there was no welcome in their eyes, no warmth — only a silent, watchful regard laced with unmistakable wariness, all of it fixed on me.

Then, from the very front of the line, a white-haired servant stepped forward. Judging by his immaculate dress, ramrod-straight posture, and a expression without the slightest crack, he could only be the head butler of this castle. And sure enough—

"Welcome to Escarr Castle, Your Highness. I am Hendrik Terdano, head butler and steward of this household."

His voice was impeccably courteous, but the temperature beneath it was every bit as cold as the servants' stares.

I flashed him a bright smile.

"I look forward to your care, Hendrik. I am—"

I faltered for a heartbeat, then spoke again.

"I am Ivelina Delmar. The sixth princess of the Kingdom of Delmar."

It was a greeting far too sunny for a hostage sent from an enemy nation.

At the sight of me, Hendrik's eyes cooled and settled, as though confirming the rumors of a mad princess.

"Yes, Your Highness. I shall do my utmost to ensure your stay here is without discomfort."

He bowed with formal precision. I answered with an even brighter smile.

"Yes, please do."

"…."

"By the way."

I looked around at the assembled staff and tilted my head.

"Where is the Archduke? I don't see him anywhere."

Hendrik replied without so much as blinking.

"His Grace has gone to deal with the monsters that appeared in the Milidren Mountains to the north."

Flat. Matter-of-fact. No excuse, no apology — merely an announcement.

Wow. I may be a fake princess, but on paper I'm still the princess of an entire nation.

And not only had he skipped the welcome entirely — he'd straight-up vacated the castle?

Absolute trash, this guy.

As I blinked up at him with an artlessly innocent expression, Hendrik continued.

"It happened to coincide with the season when the monsters emerge. However, such occurrences are common in the North, and His Grace has asked that you kindly extend your understanding."

I snorted inwardly.

Monsters, my foot. He's just saying he fled to the mountains because he couldn't stand the sight of my face.

In the original story, too, Grand Duke Varkan had held Delmar in loathing so extreme it bordered on revulsion. He'd lost his men to that war countless times over, so it was only natural. No way would he stage a grand welcome for a princess the Emperor had forcibly dumped on him — a princess whose mind, no less, was broken besides.

The same went, presumably, for these servants, who might any day be expected to bow to a lunatic as their Archduchess.

I gave a light nod.

"Well, it can't be helped. I'm not so deranged — or so petty — that I can't understand that much. I only pray for his safe return."

Perhaps because my answer fell so squarely within the bounds of normalcy, Hendrik's eyes narrowed, just for the briefest of moments.

"…Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness. Then, allow me to escort you to your chambers."

"Yes, please."

I followed behind Hendrik as he led the way — and then, abruptly, I stopped in my tracks.

"Oh, one more thing."

Hendrik turned back to me, and the servants, heads still bowed, all looked up as well.

"Yes? Please speak."

With my chin lifted just slightly, I said it plainly.

"I'm not crazy."

"…Pardon?"

Hendrik repeated the question a beat too late. I only lifted my chin higher, my voice bolder still.

"I said, I am not insane."

"…."

"…."

A brief silence fell over the courtyard.

Watching the expressions of the head butler and his staff — the look of men staring at a woman who had lost her mind — I smiled to myself, thoroughly pleased.

Phew. That was smooth.

It seemed the opening act of my Mad Princess performance had gone off quite splendidly.